


Down from the Saddle

by upon_a_painted_ocean



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Broken Bones, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Hurt Leon (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Episode: s03e12-13 The Coming of Arthur, Protective Elyan (Merlin), Protective Percival (Merlin), Riding Accidents, Sir Leon the Long Suffering, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29508627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upon_a_painted_ocean/pseuds/upon_a_painted_ocean
Summary: A training ride doesn't go quite to plan. Also, Leon is constitutionally incapable of taking it easy, and the Round Table is entirely populated by hypocritical idiots, but they all love each other, so that's alright then.
Relationships: Elyan & Leon (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Leon (Merlin), Leon & Percival (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	Down from the Saddle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Onehelluvapilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/gifts).



> Written for gremlinbehaviour/onehelluvapilot in appreciation for all of her many wonderful Knights H/C fics, and in reciprocation for the prompt-fills (you might recognise a prompt I've recycled here) you have graced us with. As thanks, have some hurt!Leon and some chaotically affectionate Knights. Lovey schmoop, with a side of hurt/comfort.

Since retaking the castle, the knights of the newly-minted Round Table had been busy every waking moment, alternating between helping in repairs and learning their new duties. Leon especially seemed to be inventing new hours to the day in order to find time to fulfill his duties as First Knight, somehow anticipate Arthur's every exasperated command as the regent wrangled truculent council members, lend a hand to Gwen and Elyan to set their forge to rights, assess the various skills and specialties of his new comrades, and draw up detailed training regimens for each of them.

In an effort to spare them any self-consciousness in front of the older trained-from-birth knights of the nobility, he'd been further running himself ragged running exclusive Round Table training sessions.

(With the exception of Gaius, who assured the First Knight he had little use for swordplay as a physician, and while he appreciated the invitation being extended to the entirety of the Table, he rather thought he'd be kept busy enough with tending to the results of their slinging blades about.)

(Gwen however was not one to pass up an opportunity to both keep up her sword practice and show off just where her brother had learned some of his craftier tricks with the weapon. Despite Leon's efforts, they had attracted quite the audience when she and Elyan had given Gwaine opportunity to demonstrate his skill in double-wielding one afternoon.)

Surprisingly slightly less chaotic had been the riding lessons he was giving Elyan and Percival. The pair of them, for all their joking, had proved able students, and Leon looked forward to their morning rides. Without the pressure of having to fulfill the role of the Prince Regent's First Knight for the eyes of the council and the King's oldguard of knights, these private training sessions reminded him more of training with his fellow squires as a boy. He was also reminded of how he used to sneak away after practice to meet Elyan and Gwen down by the river to coach them through the sword drills he himself was learning.

Thinking fondly of those days, Leon was grateful for this chance to both reconnect with his old friend, as well as to get to know Percival better with the leisure of not having an invading immortal army to combat. It was nice to have friends among the knights that were more than comradely acquaintances.

With how hard they'd all been working, as well as how well his wayward pupils had been improving in their horsemanship, Leon reckoned they could spare a morning for a slightly more recreational ride without feeling too guilty. His sense of duty was assuaged by the fact that, strictly speaking, one could really consider it to serve as a sort of final assessment of Percival and Elyan's skills.

Also, Arthur had banned him from his sight for the day after the Prince Regent had been subjected to twelve pages of a two-inch-thick stack of 'citadel security suggestions' over breakfast before banishing the knight. Leon hadn't revealed that the rest of the stack was blank parchment, though Arthur actually ordering out of his chambers had not been the intent of the jest. Really, the prince should have recalled the pair of them using the same tactic to entertain themselves when called to give report in enough tedious council-meetings, Leon thought. And he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He was currently looking an actual horse in the mouth as he tacked up his mount in preparation for their ride. Percival was already standing ready with his saddled mare; he had surprised Leon in his first riding lesson by confidently and efficiently readying both his and Elyan's horses before Leon had even finished with his steed. The large knight had bashfully explained that he'd always been good with the farmhorses and their care, though his experience in handling them was as teams of draft animals, not riding them.

Elyan had admitted a slight advantage of experience, as he'd on occasion found himself in funds or circumstance in the course of his travels to ride; mostly docile old pack train ponies, he said. Though his usual conveyance, he added, was old shank's mare. Making ready for today's ride, he was securing a saddlebag containing a trail-lunch for the three of them behind his saddle.

Since it was to be an informal outing, rather than a full patrol, none of them was wearing full maille, though Leon still had his sword sheathed to the side of his saddle-bow, and all wore their cloaks to display the Camelot colours; Elyan and Percival's still new and brilliantly unfaded, the embroidered dragon crest crisp and shining at their shoulders. They were both still getting accustomed to the extra fabric billowing around them as they moved.

All being ready, they mounted their horses in a flourish of red fabric and spurred under the portcullis through the courtyard gates. They took the goods road that followed the river path, rather than ride through the centre of town, and soon were trotting between the fields which bordered the forest. They picked up the pace once beyond any traffic on the road, and Leon caught the appreciative glance shared by Elyan and Percival at the fine figure they each cut with cloaks billowing behind them on horseback.

"If I didn't know better, I'd take you for a gallant knight!" Elyan shouted over the noise of the hooves.

"You've nearly got me fooled as well," Percival rejoined.

They kept up the banter as they entered the woods, Leon failing to hide his own grin at their antics. In the cover of the trees, it was pleasantly cool and sun-dappled, and flowers added the occasional splash of colour to the undergrowth. Leon briefly regretted not thinking to ask Gaius whether there were any herbs missing from his depleted stores which he could have kept an eye out for to save Merlin having to make a separate trip. Elyan tossing an oak gall at his head pulled him from his thoughts however, and they continued on in high spirits.

It was late morning before they stopped in a quiet glade for an early lunch, tethering the horses to browse while they spread the package of food Elyan had brought between them and passed a skin of switchel around to quench their thirst. Percival added a handful of late blackberries he'd found at the edge of the clearing, and Elyan demonstrated his skill at catching tossed berries in his mouth. When the sun had shifted to high noon, they packed the remnants of the meal and remounted the now-rested horses, turning the reins back the way they'd come.

It wasn't a terribly far return ride to the castle and, after their earlier ebullience, they took it slow; two of them in no unnecessary hurry to return to the afternoon's duties, and Leon against his sense of responsibility enjoying this brief respite too. The trail was clear and easy and the horses needed little guidance or urging to follow it at a sedate pace, giving their riders little more to do than enjoy the scenery.

Leon's attention was drifting back to his to-do list for the day still sitting on his desk, trying to recall which items had yet to be crossed off, when his horse suddenly shied at a rustling in the undergrowth. Before he could tighten his grip on the saddle, a wood-grouse rocketed across the path, sending the horse rearing and Leon plummeting into the dirt. Despite being practiced at taking falls, he still instinctively made to catch himself, and instead slammed awkwardly onto his side.

Percival and Elyan, riding slightly ahead, turned at the commotion and wrenched their reins around with twin shouts of alarm.

They leapt from their saddles and flung their reins over the branches of a sapling, barely pausing to make sure they were secure. Leon's horse, now the initial fright was gone, was dancing nervously in the middle of the trail but seemed unlikely to bolt from his stablemates.

Leon lay crumpled on his side, gasping to retrieve the breath that had been knocked from him. Kicked up dust choked his first proper inhale and the ensuing cough tore through his chest with an almost blinding lance of pain. It hurt more than being unhorsed by a lance in a joust; unless perhaps one were _impaled_ on the lance. Trembling, he struggled to his knees, but attempting to move his left arm sharpened the pain and he sagged forward to curl protectively around the cradled limb and his throbbing shoulder.

A flourish of red surrounded him, and Elyan and Percival were there in a swirling of cloaks, or perhaps that was just his vision swirling, and then his stomach swirled also and he lurched forward and vomited into the dirt from pain and the deepseated sensation of _wrongness_ in his shoulder. It felt oddly lopsided. A broad hand pressed against his chest and other grasping hands were in the folds of his cloak at his back, keeping him from falling forward completely. What he had thought was the buzzing of insects resolved into a duet of concerned exclamations, and Leon also realised that Percival was holding his hair back from his face as he remained hunched over the remains of his lunch.

Leon swore.

"Did you hit your head too?" Percival asked.

"Don't- don't think so," he gasped. "Just my-" Percival's other hand pressed his shoulder and Leon _yelled_.

Percival snatched his hand away as though scalded and looked frantically to Elyan. "It's his arm, or his shoulder- there's no blood-"

"That's something at least." He cast about for a convenient tree or log off the trail-side. "Let's get him to that tree there- Leon, do you think you can help us? It's just a couple steps."

By way of answer, Leon got his feet under him and, with the help of Elyan's hand under his right elbow and Percival's arm around his waist, levered himself to standing. He promptly swayed alarmingly, but between the three of them they managed to tripod over to the tree. Once Leon was propped against the trunk, still guarding his arm and quite a few shades paler than usual, Elyan reached for his left shoulder again, which even in Leon's hunched posture looked lopsided the way he was favouring it.

"C'mon, Lion, let me see- I can't tell anything with you curled up as you are-" With as much gentleness as he could, Elyan probed his fingers around the joint, then along Leon's collarbone; when he reached midway along it, he felt a slight bump which _shifted_ beneath his fingers while Leon bucked against his hand with a sharp sob. Noting the spot which garnered such reaction, Elyan resolutely continued his assessment with murmured apologies, though he couldn't help the sympathetic tears which pricked his vision at the necessary pain he caused his friend. To his relief, he found nothing else, and Leon didn't react again besides his continued ragged breathing.

Elyan sat back on his heels with a sigh and an anchoring hand on Leon's knee. "It's the collarbone, though it feels like it's intact apart from the one break. I hope. We'll have to make a sling for it, otherwise there's no way he'll be able to bear the ride home." He grimaced. "I wish we had Merlin here."

Percival looked with regret at the pristine craftsmanship of his brand new knight's cloak, but didn't hesitate in taking his knife to the hem and tearing a broad strip of fabric from it. He tore two more lengths from it, then folded the remainder of his cloak and turned back to his companions. Leon was looking incredibly even paler then the moment before, excepting the thin trickle of blood in his beard from where he'd bitten his lip in pain until it bled. Percival inwardly cringed for the further pain he was about to cause.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly, and it took a few seconds for his words to register before Leon gave a minute nod.

Elyan firmed his grip on Leon's sound right shoulder and braced him upright from the tree. Murmuring apologies, Percival eased the arm from where it was cradled to rest in Leon's lap instead and allow himself access to the shoulder. He loosened the ties of Leon's shirt to get a proper look at the joint. Already, it was swollen and warm to the touch, with discolouring bruises spreading from the centre of the broken collarbone. Elyan winced in further sympathy at the sight, but there was nothing any of them could do for it here; hopefully when they returned to the castle, Gaius would be able to get some ice from the cellars to bring some of the swelling down.

The best Percival could offer was the folded piece of cloak which he gently positioned as padding over the area before positioning the arm crosswise over Leon's chest. Leon groaned at the manipulation of his arm but fought to remain still in Elyan's grasp. Elyan freed one hand to hold the arm in place as Percival tied a strip of his cloak into a high sling to support its weight, then snugly swathed the remaining strips around arm and ribs both, to further immobilise the shoulder-joint.

By the time Percival had tied the last knot, Leon was fairly panting with pain, his face pressed hard into Elyan's shoulder as Elyan continued rubbing circles across his back, trying to impart some measure of comfort. Gradually, Leon subsided into Elyan's arms. When he lifted his head, his eyes were red-rimmed and tears had left a damp patch on Elyan's cloak and tracks down his cheeks into his beard. With the corner of Leon's own cloak, Percival gently wiped his face dry, then held a waterskin for him to rinse his mouth out.

When he'd had a couple sips and was sure he wouldn't simply topple over, Elyan helped Leon ease back against the tree with his cloak for a pillow then stood, brushing leaves from his trousers. "You rest there, and we'll get the horses, alright?"

"Not going anywhere. Th-that's what I get for trying to have a half-day off," Leon jested weakly.

Percival frowned. "Leon, I doubt this is some sort of cosmic message that you're not permitted an easy day."

"But look at it this way," Elyan said with forced cheer, "now you're bound to have loads of days off to heal up."

Far from wry amusement, Leon's eyes widened in realisation. "I can't! There's still so much to be done, and Arthur's only just- You all need- I promised Gwen- I'd just finished drawing up a training schedule-" he listed in increasing agitation.

Elyan knelt in front of the anxious knight. "Leon. Leon! Whoa, easy, stop it- give yourself self a break, seeing as you've just _broken a bone_ ," he cupped Leon's face firmly between his palms. "Look at me. There are lots of things to be done, but you're not the only one to do them! You're indispensable, but there's lots of people who'll be only too happy to help while you heal. You've been teaching us well; I'm sure between us we can manage to cover your duties for a time. Maybe even without anything catching on fire!"

Percival added a comfortingly firm grasp to Leon's good shoulder. "But before we even start worrying about that, let's focus on getting you home first."

Leon gave a shaky nod. "Looks like you'll be having a real test of your horsemanship skills after all."

"Don't worry, we've had a fine teacher," Elyan assured. "Now, let's see about your current horse riding capabilities."

Getting mounted was a painful process. Between them, they'd decided that Elyan, as the lightest, would be the one to ride double with Leon but the size difference of the pair meant that once mounted, Elyan had his hands full keeping Leon in the saddle, without one to spare for the reins, and the only way he could see ahead was to crane to the side, nearly unseating them both in the process. Percival would have to lead them, and in the former farmer's experienced estimation, they would have to switch mounts at least once if they expected the horses to bear two full-grown knights all the way back to the castle, even with one of them being Elyan.

Testament to their predicament, this last jibe at Elyan's height didn't spark even a token display of indignation.

To further spare the horses, Percival elected to walk and lead the train on foot; he tied the reins of the two empty mounts to the saddle behind Elyan then fashioned the laden horse's reins into a lead, ready to lead on.

Slowed as they were with the overburdened horse, the need to stop twice to change mounts, both times which involved the awkward struggle of getting Leon down from then back up on a horse with only one working arm, and the constant need to keep the gait as smooth as possible to avoid jarring Leon's shoulder more than necessary, the return trip took twice as long as it had that morning. Evening was drawing in by the time the castle drew in sight, and it was gloaming before they reached the gates.

It was a very different group rode back into the courtyard than had left it that morning. Percival, sans cloak and leading the string of three horses, barely looked ahead of his feet as he plodded along in exhaustion. Leon, though aware enough to not be an entirely dead weight as Elyan struggled to keep them both in the saddle, had subsided into a grey haze of his own exhaustion and pain and took little notice of their surroundings. He didn't even seem to realise they had returned home. Elyan was the only one to cast his eyes about the courtyard in hopes of spotting someone to help them down or fetch Gaius. The courtyard was empty, apart from the guards at the gate who, while casting concerned glances back their way, were unable to leave their posts.

The wicket gate by the water trough and spigot creaked open, and Elyan's face split into a grin of relief as Gwen stepped out carrying a pitcher, and it stretched impossibly wider as Merlin followed her with a bucket. Their laughing expressions quickly morphed to alarm however as they spotted the bedraggled riders. Vessels forgotten, they dashed across the cobbles.

"What on earth happened to- Leon! Is he badly hurt?" Gwen reached the horse on which her brother and friend were riding double. She reached to steady Leon with a hand at his thigh as Elyan stiffly dismounted. Merlin skidded to a halt behind her and used his advantage of height to help guide Leon from the saddle as well.

"His horse threw him- we think it's his collarbone broken- Percival and I bound it as best we could but he's in a lot of pain and riding's not helped..."

Gwen took charge, briskly issuing orders. "Elyan, help me get him over to the steps to sit down. Merlin, you run and fetch Gaius with a stretcher and a couple stout guards to carry it-"

Leon's eyes opened at that. "No! I can walk," he protested. "I just need-" he sagged against Gwen, "-a bit of help..."

Gwen squinted at him to show what she thought of that assertion, but turned to Percival instead. "I know you're exhausted," she told the big man, who looked as though he'd only just registered her and Merlin's presence, "but could you see that the horses get to the stables alright? Leave them to the stablehands, and ask they get some extra carrots as reward. The horses, I mean."

Percival nodded and gathered the reins.

Merlin arrived back rapidly, with Gwaine and Lancelot at his heels, Lancelot with a canvas litter over his shoulder.

"Merlin said a pair of strapping stretcher bearers were needed-" "-said it was Leon hurt; is it serious?" "I found them on my way to our rooms; Gaius is getting ready for us-"

They reached the group clustered on the castle steps and Merlin took direction of the stretcher. Leon made another token protest, but Gwen quelled him with a glance. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and bade him behave, then reluctantly rose and brushed her skirts.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," she gestured at the pitcher abandoned by the spigot, looking torn, "I've got to bring the king his supper." She looked to Merlin for reassurance. "You'll take care of him, and let me know how he is later?"

Merlin nodded earnestly. "Promise."

Lancelot and Gwaine indicated they were ready, and the group went their separate ways; Gwen toward the kitchens, and Percival with the horses to the stables, while the rest made their slow way to Gaius' chambers bearing their precious burden. The physician was waiting for them when they arrived. He had the knights help Leon onto the examination table, then summarily banished the lot of them from the room, save Lancelot for whom Merlin pleaded intercession and a stay of sentencing. Then Gaius turned his full attention toward Leon. He removed the makeshift sling and swathe, with a grudgingly approving glance for the field care evidently _one_ of the knights had remembered from the lesson in basics he'd given, and gently palpated along the collarbone, evoking a muffled whimper from his patient. Merlin slipped his hand into Leon's. 

Leon wanted to scream as Gaius slowly bent his arm first this way, then that to test its range of motion. Merlin wanted to scream as Leon's grip on his hand slowly became more and more vise-like. Instead, he consolingly patted the trembling knight's knee with his free hand.

At last, Gaius relented and rebound his arm in a new sling, this one proper bandages and not a sacrificed cloak. "Well, I'd say you've been lucky. It's a clean break, and there doesn't seem to be any muscle damage apart from the sure to be rather impressive bruising, so I don't anticipate any difficulty in healing. You'll have full use of the arm in a matter of weeks." The physician turned the full force of his stare on Leon. "Provided you allow it the chance to properly heal."

Leon strove to look properly obedient. Merlin retrieved his hand and discretely flexed some feeling back into his fingers. "I'll mix you something for the pain and then bring some ice to your chambers."

Leon tried not to look too abjectly relieved at the prospect of ice and pain relief.

Lancelot stepped forward from the corner of the room where he'd been rolling the same bandage over and over in an effort to appear busy enough not to be ordered by Gaius to leave. "If you think you're ready to walk, I'll see you to your room?" he ventured to ask once Leon had recollected himself.

The injured knight was visibly wilting and despite his usual air of self-sufficiency, Lancelot doubted he'd make it back to the knights' quarters without falling down a flight of stairs without some assistance, however loath to admit it. A paradox Lancelot had some recent familiarity with.

It had taken the combined exasperated powers of Merlin, Gaius, and Percival all to keep him from further injuring himself while recovering from the battle with the immortal army. Now that he was finally permitted full use of his own arm, it was only right he return the favour. He kept a protective arm hovering around Leon's waist as he levered himself up from the examination table, ready to catch him if he faltered, but Leon managed to find his own feet with a tight smile of thanks.

As soon as they left Gaius's rooms, they acquired an entourage in the form of the three other knights. Gwaine stopped halfway along to corridor in mid-pace looking concerned, Percival, who had rejoined them, looked as though he'd been crying himself, his face damp and blotchy, and Elyan, leaving off comfortingly patting Percival's shoulder, immediately stepped up to flank Leon as he and Lancelot emerged. The walk from physician's chambers to the knights' quarters was slow, and Leon remained slightly hunched to one side guarding his arm to ease the jolting of each step, but he managed under his own power. When the procession reached the door to the First Knight's rooms, they all paused.

"You're sure you don't want any help, or company?" Gwaine frowned dubiously at Leon.

"Thank you all, but no; I'll manage and really, I just want to sleep." It was obvious Leon was exhausted, as the doorframe seemed to be the only thing currently holding him upright. His fellow knights acquiesced to the request, leaving him with gentle pats to his good shoulder and wishes for a restful night, and continued to their own rooms or night's amusement, though they cast a few doubtful looks behind them. Lancelot looked almost as though he were about to argue, but didn't venture to speak up.

Leon shuffled into his room and sighed in relief as he shut the door and allowed the full extent of his pain to show in his face. Looking at the gulf between door and bed, he almost called the others back, but set his jaw stubbornly and continued walking.

When he reached the edge of the bed, his knees all but buckled. He made an abortive attempt to reach for his boots, but gave it up as a bad job and simply sank into the pillows. Sleeping in his clothes would save time and hassle tomorrow morning. His eyes fell closed of their own volition and he fell asleep resolutely _not_ thinking about what he would say if he ever caught any of his knights behaving in this manner.

Sleep, quick in coming, did not retain its grasp on him long, and Leon spent a restless night fruitlessly attempting to find a comfortable position as his arm and shoulder ached relentlessly. He dozed intermittently, but when sunlight brightened his chambers, it found him as exhausted and aching as he'd been the previous evening. Despite all physical evidence pleading otherwise, he'd evidently managed at least a brief period of actual sleep however, as there was a tray and pitcher beside the bed he had no recollection of anyone delivering. By the apothecary vial on the tray, Leon surmised it was Merlin had done so. The stone-cold stew but still-unmelted bundle of ice confirmed it.

Levering himself upright with a groan, he reached for the ice-pack. Uncanny or not, it was cold, and his shoulder hurt. Also, it was obscurely pleasing to know Merlin cared enough for him to share such a gift, whatever the ways or means.

As the cobwebs cleared somewhat with the relief of cold against his collarbone, Leon's tired mind finally parsed what felt so out of place. The angle of sunlight across the wall was far too high. Despite hardly sleeping a wink, he'd somehow also managed to oversleep. He was already overdue for the training he'd scheduled for today. Already dressed in yesterday's clothes, he gulped down the vial of pain draught, shoved half a breadroll from his abandoned dinner in his mouth, and made for the training pitch.

Finding himself frustratingly not entirely steady on his feet, Leon stuck close to the corridor walls on his way through the castle, trying not to look too much as though he might need the support as he was overtaken in pace by most every passing servant, guard, and courtier. By the time he finally reached the door by the armoury, the pain potion had taken effect however, and the relief it brought allowed him to stride across the field to where the other knights of the Round Table were already practicing forms. Some of them at least.

Lancelot and Percival paused in their sparring. Elyan looked up from where he was braiding Gwaine's hair. All looked surprised to see Leon.

"We thought you weren't coming! We were just running some basic drills-"

"So I see," Leon said, looking at the rather intricate array of braids in Gwaine's hair.

The long-haired knight grinned from where he sat between Elyan's knees. "Your model knights were running drills; I told Lance that if the instructor, you, didn't show up in fifteen minutes, we're legally allowed to leave. Which, why _are_ you here?"

"I scheduled the training field-"

"No offense, mate," Gwaine interrupted, "but you look like shit. This from a man with extensive experience in the 'feeling like shit in the morning' department. Didn't Gaius say not to-"

"I'm fine. And I hardly think supervising from the sidelines is overly taxing."

Considering they'd all, at various points, chosen to interpret Gaius' instructions with creative license before, none were surprised, though they regarded Leon's sling doubtfully.

"If you're sure..." Percival moved as though to offer a supporting arm then gestured instead to the bench by the sword-rack, "At least sit down." Which Leon acquiesced to in the face of his pleading gaze.

The others resumed sparring, or commenced in the case of Gwaine and Elyan, and for a short time, Leon was able to content himself with calling advice from the bench, but when Percival missed his footwork for the third time in a row, he couldn't restrain himself from rising to demonstrate.

Ignoring the way his head swam upon standing, Leon took position opposite Lancelot to show Percival the correct sequence of steps. He was interrupted however by Arthur's sudden appearance from the armoury door. The prince scanned the field and brightened when he spotted Leon.

"Leon! It's good to see you about; Merlin said he looked in on you last night but you were already asleep. Are you better enough for training today?"

"I'm well enough, Sire; I could hardly leave my duties fall to someone else. Is there something you require of me?" Leon tried to casually lean against the sword-rack behind him as his vision shimmered like heat-haze and Arthur's voice seemed to recede down a long tunnel. It took all his concentration to focus on the next words spoken to him.

"I wondered whether you had the armoury inventory report to hand? Your rooms were empty but the servant George said he had passed you going in the direction of the training field." Arthur looked more closely at Leon. He knew from long experience the elder knight's tells, and he was looking progressively more pained, his jaw clenched tight and a minute tremor in the hand which hung at his side. "You're sure you're alright?" he asked softly, no longer as regent but as friend and brother.

"Fine. The inventory report should still be in the armoury; if you'd just follow me, I'll show-" Leon made it all of two steps in the direction of the armoury before his step faltered and he sagged like a puppet with its strings cut.

Arthur shouted and surged forward to catch him.

Leon was a dead weight in his arms, head lolling against Arthur's chest. Arthur couldn't entirely arrest his momentum, and so the pair sunk slowly to the ground, Arthur falling to his knees with his surrogate older brother held tight in his arms. Leon didn't so much as moan as his left side pressed into Arthur's armour. Too far away to catch him, the other knights came running with their own exclamations of alarm, swords and sparring forgotten.

Arthur looked up at them in panic. "He just collapsed! He said he was fine! He was fine and then he collapsed. Get Merlin! We need Gaius!"

Lancelot dropped down beside them with a firm hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Gwaine's already gone to fetch Gaius; they'll soon-" he paused as a low groan issued from between them.

"Wh'appened?" A frown creased Leon's brow and a glimmer of blue showed beneath his lashes.

"You fainted- you were talking to me and then you just _collapsed_ , you _absolute idiot_ , don't _do_ that to me!" Arthur clutched at Leon's shirtfront. "Not you too-" he choked, "I can't stand another family member-"

Leon patted his hand weakly. "M s'rry," he mumbled. "D'nt mean t'-" his eyes fluttered closed again and he fell quiet.

Arthur looked near ready to panic again, the unexpected shock of Leon collapsing seeming to have opened the floodgates of emotion and worry he'd held pent up for weeks as castle life slowly returned to equilibrium; now he seemed to have lost his own. Before Arthur could fully spiral back into distress, Elyan intervened.

Elyan regarded Leon, poked his cheek, pinched the back of his hand, and looked satisfied when the unconscious man scrunched his eyes and grumbled in an annoyed tone at the pestering. "Sire, I think he just fell asleep, not passed out again."

Gwaine came jogging back across the field, chivvying Gaius along with him and puffing like a bellows. "Found 'im already coming this way," he panted, "said he was looking for Princess at the behest of th' council."

The physician was already grumblingly kneeling by the huddled group on the ground as the others moved back to make space, apart from Arthur who refused to relinquish Leon's hand. The knights hovered nervously awaiting a verdict.

Gaius looked up from his examination to the audience of worried knights and Prince Regent clustered around him. "Well, they do say luck smiles on fools and children, which I suppose is the only reason any of you are still alive, since my medical advice is so rarely heeded." The physician glared up at them. "The rest of you don't surprise me, but I did expect a little more sense from Sir Leon, if only as First Knight."

Even Arthur had the sense to appear somewhat abashed at the telling off. 

"But he will be alright, right?"

"Provided he actually gets some decent rest and refrains from dashing off to go get himself pummeled with swords or fall off another horse or something equally foolish the minute my back is turned, yes. Though he's incredibly lucky he didn't cause the bone to shift out of line and sever a vessel or pierce the skin this time around. If you hadn't caught him, Sire..."

Arthur blanched a distinctly green tinge at the prospect and clutched his unconscious brother's hand more tightly.

Gaius softened slightly at the prince's obvious distress. "He will heal, Sire. I'd like to rebind the arm more securely," he said, drawing a roll of bandages from his satchel, "and someone to keep an eye on him to be sure he actually rests tonight and the next few days would be a good idea, but he will be alright. His fainting was likely more to do with weeks of working himself to the bone even beyond his usual habit, compounded by a poor night's rest and missed supper, than any effect of a broken collarbone. "

Arthur nodded. "Good, I'll see to it his duties are distributed amongst the Round Table until he is fit to return to them. And I shall order him to bed if I must."

Percival, looking horribly guilty, spoke up. "I didn't even think to check on Leon this morning. I just assumed he was still sleeping and was going to bring lunch after morning training. If I'd only-" Gwaine patted his arm consolingly. "We all did the same, Perce."

Percival continued, "If we're to see he's better cared for tonight, my room is the middle of the corridor of the Round Table knights' quarters; it would be easy for us all to look in in passing, and I don't mind sharing, really. I- I sleep better with another person in the room actually."

Packing his satchel away, Gaius nodded in approval. "Good, well that saves me adding another stubborn knight to my rounds. Get a good meal into him when he wakes properly, and let me know if anything else drastic occurs. In the meantime, if there's nothing else- I'm sorry, Sire, but I was originally on my way from the council chambers to inquire as to the inventory report you went to fetch. You are slated to present it shortly."

Arthur looked conflicted, looking down at the hand still clasped in his. Leon still seemed firmly asleep. He gave his had a fond squeeze, then rose and looked to his knights of the Round Table, loyal friends all. "I-I'll send Merlin for word when I can. See Leon's taken care of? Please."

Lancelot clasped his arm. "We'll make sure of it, Arthur."

For the second time in as many days, two of the group returned to their unavoidable duties, while the rest made their way through the castle bearing Leon. The journey from training pitch to knights' chambers was thankfully short, with fewer staircases than that from the main courtyard to the physician's chambers, and Leon was soon settled comfortably into Percival's room. 

Leon felt unusually well-rested when he woke. Also unfamiliar was the ceiling he opened his eyes to, and the puzzling fact that his pillow was breathing. He went to sit up and was immediately disabused of that notion by the awkwardness of his left arm being securely bound across his chest and the sudden breathtaking pain that lanced through his shoulder as he moved. His pillow brought a supportive arm around his middle as he gasped and kept very still until the pain ebbed and he could draw a full breath. Right. Not going to try that again.

Instead, Leon turned his head gingerly to the side to inspect the room which, judging by the maille coat lacking sleeves that lay draped over a bedside chair, belonged to Percival. As did the bed he found himself in. And likely the warm and living pillow he was resting quite comfortably against, which was now fully embracing him. Despite this unexpected setting he didn't feel discomfited in the least, and despite his still-throbbing collarbone he was overwhelmingly comfortable.

"Good morning, Percival," Leon addressed his pillow, "Were you so worried I would expire in the night?"

"We thought you could use a bit of company, that's all."

"We?" 

Percival patted the tangle of blankets beside him where the top of a curly head was just visible. Their occupant grumbled and scrunched farther into the cocoon, and Leon felt the hitherto unnoted line of heat along his legs shift to more closely embrace his thigh. A sharp chin pressed against his hip.

"How're you feeling, Lion?" The words were muffled against his side.

Leon blushed at the nickname. Unable to reach down on that side to muss Elyan's hair, he settled for gently jostling the leg his friend was cuddling. "Sufficiently coddled, thank you."

"Gwaine wanted to join in as well, except Lancelot was concerned the bed might break, so they went to go sleep with Merlin instead."

Leon pictured Merlin's bed from the few glimpses he'd had of the physician's assistant's room, then tried to picture how on earth three full-grown men could fit in it. Presumably they'd gone to one of the knights' chambers instead. Or perhaps Merlin had used his ways and means to temporarily enlarge his narrow bed. Leon cut off that train of thought before it could disturb his still sleep-warmed and relatively worry-free mind.

A knock on the doorframe drew him back to the present moment. Lancelot stood in the doorway bearing a tray and looking pleased to see Leon awake. 

"Sleep well?" he grinned at the entangled occupants of Percival's bed.

"Quite."

"Merlin sent me with a pain draught for you, and Gwaine acquired breakfast," he hefted the exceedingly laden tray, "though for your peace of mind I wouldn't venture a guess as to how."

Percival nuzzled into Leon's curls and chuckled, "If you're feeling as sufficiently coddled as you say, I suppose that means all the more pastries for me and Elyan?"

"Only if you want to be running laps for all of training," Leon mock-threatened.

Elyan finally deigned to emerge from his burrow as Lancelot moved to balance the breakfast tray on the chair by the bed. "What's this I hear about pastries? Gwaine'd better have stolen some of those little jam tarts."

Lancelot came to sit on the edge of the bed, and between the pair of them, he and Percival carefully eased Leon into sitting upright and Lancelot supported him with an arm around his waist until Percival had repositioned himself sitting up against the wall at the head of the bed and opened his arms to take Leon back into his lap. By the time he was settled leaning against Percival's chest once more, Leon was grey and trembling with pain and Elyan was worriedly gripping his good hand and stroking a thumb across his knuckles in an effort to offer an ounce of comfort.

"Right, pain draught first, before anyone's having any pastries," Lancelot hurriedly slipped the cork from the little single-dose bottle Merlin had sent him with and brought it to Leon's mouth, brushing stray curls out of the way to gently cup his jaw with his spare hand.

Leon grimaced, both at the taste and the continued pain, and drank it down before subsiding into Percival's steadying arms. He gradually brought himself back under control as the potion took effect, the others continuing to hover protectively, but staying quiet to allow him some semblance of privacy to breathe through the remnants of his agony.

As soon as he could unclench his jaw without a scream slipping out, Leon tried to apologise. Elyan clapped a hand over his mouth mid-word and glared at him.

"Lance, you've heard the lecture enough times, you wanna be the one to give it this time? Just hit the highlights, so we can be sure you remember them too."

Lancelot blushed, but didn't dispute the implications. He ticked off on his fingers; "Uh. We're your friends-"

Percival cleared his throat.

"-your family," Lancelot corrected. "And that means we support each other. Don't be ashamed of asking for help?"

"Why does that sound like a question."

"Um. Needing help is not a sign of weakness. Definitive statement. We'll never be upset with you for asking for help, but we _will_ be _highly_ disappointed if we find out you needed help and _didn't_ ask."

"And we _will_ find out," Elyan promised in a highly threatening manner.

Leon began fervently nodding along, winced, thought better of it, and resorted to humming affirmatively instead.

Percival cleared his throat again. "You missed the most important bit."

Lancelot looked momentarily confused before remembrance dawned. "Oh! Right." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Leon's forehead. "We love you, you idiot."

Percival squeezed Leon gently and planted a kiss on the top of his head. Elyan pecked him on the temple, spoilt the effect slightly by also flicking Leon's nose, then rubbed his hands together briskly and turned his attention to the abandoned breakfast tray. "Great! Now that's taken care of, let's see those purloined pastries."

As though summoned by magic (and Leon was going to plead the distraction of pain for as long as possible to avoid actually addressing that thought), Merlin and Gwaine chose that moment to tumble through the door unannounced and liberally covered with flour.

"Sorry we're late," Merlin panted as he tried to beat some of the flour from his jacket, "we had to take a detour to get here."

"We heard tell of some pastries of very legitimate provenance here-" A small cloud of flour rose as Gwaine shook his hair, then frowned at the group on the bed. "Don't tell me we've missed the cuddle pile," he exclaimed in disappointment.

Lancelot shifted to sit next to Percival at the head of the bed. "Not at all, though I'm not sure the bed will-"

Merlin waved a hand, which Leon studiously did _not_ notice. "It'll be fine"

Not needing any further encouragement, Gwaine promptly sprawled himself across the width of the bed and plopped his head in Elyan's lap. Merlin snagged himself a raspberry-filled pastry upon inspection of the tray before perching in Lancelot's lap.

Merlin leaned across to kiss Leon's cheek. "That's from Gwen; she said to tell you she'll be by later to keep you company when you are, and I quote "clawing up the walls with boredom", and if you're good and _don't_ "drag yourself out of bed unnecessarily in order to faint and scare us all half to death", she'll bring that tactics manual you're reading with her. And this-" Merlin contorted his face as though trying to look at his own eyebrows. "-is from Gaius, who says if he sees you out of bed before he gives you permission, he'll tell us all how you managed to get a blueberry stuck up your nose when you were seven."

"Ooo, now I want that story..." Gwaine caught the look Merlin was sending him. "Buuut, not at the expense of our fearless leader's continued, non-poisoned-by-an-irate-physician, health."

Merlin sighed. "And, since it seems I've been demoted from manservant and physician's apprentice to messenger-boy for the day, this-" he balled a loose fist and pressed an exceedingly gentle punch to Leon's good shoulder, "is from Arthur, although it was quite a bit harder, and I think he actually meant this-" and leaned further over to envelop Leon in a heartfelt and floury hug.

"Speaking of," Gwaine piped up again, "Have you all already done the talk?" Percival nodded.

"Alright, then here's my contribution." He wriggled around until he could tilt his head back to gaze up at Leon upside down. "Don't do stupid things you tell us not to do. If anything happens to you, who would be my impulse-control?" The habitual glib look disappeared from Gwaine's face though as he sat up and reached for Leon's hand. In its place was his earnest and serious frown. He looked Leon directly in the eyes, with none of his usual avoidance. "I admire you and your dedication to all a knight should be, but I care for you, _Leon_ , too. If Merlin's the reason I came back to Camelot, you all are the reason I stay. Don't you _dare_ make me lose a piece of that." He pressed a rough, almost angry kiss to Leon's knuckles, then huffed a wry, choked laugh. "Anyway, let's have one of those hard-won pastries."

Leon sat in stunned silence for half a moment before reaching his good arm to haul Gwaine against him in a one-armed hug. He pressed his face into Gwaine's neck, hiding in the man's longer hair as he sniffled a bit wetly, and felt Gwaine do the same against his shoulder. "Alright, I think you've all made your point," the First Knight murmured. "I love you all dearly as well."

The bed's occupants drew even more closely together: Lancelot pillowed his head against Percivals shoulder; Merlin in his lap fed Gwaine the last bite of his raspberry pastry before resuming petting the man's hair; Percival brought his arms to encircle both Leon and Gwaine against his chest; and Elyan, on Percival's other side, mindful of jostling Leon's heavily bandaged shoulder, curled around Gwaine's back and groped for the first hand he found amongst the tangle of limbs to interlace fingers with. Leon squeezed the warm, callused palm in return and let himself relax, entirely surrounded by the warm weight of his friends.

When Arthur came looking for his wayward knights and missing manservant later in the day, he found them all still curled around each other, fast asleep and inextricably tangled together.

**Author's Note:**

> As an habitual lurker, I very seldom write fic, so I'm not sure where this came from, but it sprang pretty much full-formed from my brain two days ago at 4am and who am I to question that. This is the most words I've written since my thesis.


End file.
